


A Weekend

by cimberelly



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, F/M, Rare Pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:49:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cimberelly/pseuds/cimberelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles about a weekend Monaco spends with Spain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preparations

**Author's Note:**

> These drabbles were written for my friend Pepto as her Christmas gift last year. Please note that Monaco's characterization is mostly based on Pepto's headcanon as she started RPing Monaco way before more than a few images and character notes were released. Hopefully this collection of drabbles makes some Spain/Monaco fans happy, if there are any more of you guys out there.

He would have loved to pick her up at the train station. 'Wait for her at the exit with a card with her name on it, like one of those hired chauffeurs who pick people up from the airport that you always see in movies. It sounded like such a romantic idea (and you know Spain was a sucker for romantic ideas) and he would really have been all for it, but it wasn’t meant to be. Monaco didn’t like the train (too pedestrian) and why take the train when you could have someone drive you there?

Spain also wouldn’t have minded picking her up at her house and driving her back with him. The long drive to and from her place wouldn’t have bothered him. He loved long car trips, especially since there was the possibility of a scenic route, but Monaco also politely refused that option. She said something about it being a waste of his time, energy and fuel until he finally sighed, smiled and gave up (He didn’t even think Monaco just might not relish spending close to 12 hours with him in his old, almost beat-up truck that he loved to take on road trips...) .

Then he invited her to stay at his house for her whole visit to only find out she’s already made reservations at a hotel. A five-star one. She reserved a suite with a great view of the beach and it also had a Jacuzzi. The suite also came with butler services. Well, he could see why she would want to stay in a five-star hotel, so he didn’t really argue. He still would have loved having her stay with him for a while. It wasn’t exactly everyday that she took some time to see him. They hardly saw each other at all, so it would have been nice to have her stay with him a while. She would only be around for a weekend after all.


	2. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spain goes to pick Monaco up at her hotel.

The doorman eyed his sandals as if it were a crime to show your toes in broad daylight. The Iberian Nation could hardly guess why; his toes were clean and so were his toenails. He certainly made sure of that before he put the sandals on that morning. And it wasn’t as if he was staying long anyway. He was just there to pick up Monaco.

He walked into the lobby, smiling down and enjoying the feel and sound of his sandals against the carpeted floors. The carpet was a nice shade of burgundy red. Spain had always liked red, though not this particular shade. He liked his red vibrant and bright, like the red of his flag. The carpet was also thick and plush enough that he hardly heard his footsteps. It was a nice carpet, very, very nice.

“Espagne?”

And there was Monaco, petite and ladylike in her pretty pink sundress. Romano (or Monaco herself or France) could have told him that that shade of pink was old rose were he around, but he wasn’t, so Spain pretty much called it “the pretty pink dress” in his head. One of her many “pretty pink dresses.” She had quite a lot and Spain had never really had the head to remember one from the other. As far as he’s concerned, they all looked beautiful on her.

“It’s... good to see you...” She said and she smiled up at him. If Spain were to notice, that smile looked a touch stiff and hesitant, but since this was Spain, no noticing was done. Instead, he smiled back and greeted her.

“Monaco!” Her name was uttered brightly, smilingly and then he leaned in and gave her a kiss and a hug.


	3. Spain's Motorcycle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monaco muses on Spain's motorcycle.

They took Spain’s motorcycle to their destination.

Romano had snorted after seeing the motorcycle for the first time and mumbled about midlife crisis and picking up girls. Prussia thought it was awesome and helped Spain fix it up as it was this old thing that needed a tune up. France brought wine to celebrate after Spain got it, because why not celebrate getting a motorcycle too? And Italy thought it was the coolest thing ever—that day.

Monaco didn’t really care for it much, much like how she didn’t care for getting kissed and hugged in public in the middle of a swanky five-star hotel lobby. But since it was Spain’s, she treated it with a good measure of patience and tolerance though it was much like his beat-up old truck. And she had to admit it wasn’t so bad, so long as she got to hold onto him tightly the whole time she was on it. A girl could do worse than anchoring herself against a firm, masculine back belonging to a rather handsome Spaniard. And she was quite sure (perhaps irrationally so for her) that Spain would never let any harm come to her, despite the very real dangers of riding a motorcycle.

Now, if only the helmet didn’t wreak havoc on her hair...


	4. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go on a date on a beach.

The beach he took her to was private, one of those small patches of beach some people literally had in their backyards. It was actually behind one of the little properties Spain owned, which was being rented by a relative of Spain’s current assistant, Felipe. They were received warmly, as was usually the case when it came to Spain’s people, and were even given a basket of treats to enjoy while they stayed a while.

The weather was gorgeous, the sun high in the blue, blue sky. A slight breeze played with Monaco’s skirt and hair (Spain assured her she looked beautiful no matter what after she pulled off the helmet he leant her. Monaco sighed and decided to agree because she knew Spain would keep on insisting). The sand was white and pure and warm when they stepped on it with their bare feet. They walked hand in hand along the shore, unmindful of the sun, the wind and the white waves playing along each careful yet absent step. They were Mediterraneans and this was natural for them, even if it had been a while since Spain took a ship or a boat out to sea or that Monaco was now more used to high-class beach resorts. They talked about all sorts of things, from Spain’s tomatoes to Monaco’s ballet. Spain never ran out of stories and Monaco always had something to say though she’s not quite as chatty as he was. Their voices stood out against the rise and fall of the waves. Were they somewhere else, they wouldn’t be able to do as such. The beaches at this time teemed with people and were no place for long, unhurried conversations.

Their simple meal of ham, cheese, bread, olives and wine was eaten over a spread out blanket on the sand, their feet still bare, their conversation still continuing.

They finally stopped to watch the sun set over the horizon, Monaco leaning against Spain as he finally got to put his arm around her and hold her close as there were no people about and it was starting to get a bit cool.

The sun hadn’t set completely when they decided to leave the beach. It would be too hard and unsafe to drive back on the motorcycle in the dark.


	5. At a Band Performance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the way back, Spain and Monaco stop to listen to a band performing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, well actually most of this fic, was inspired by Monaco Beach's music. [Here is their bandcamp site.](http://monacobeach.bandcamp.com/) The song featured in this chapter is _Drowning In My Dreams_.
> 
> Thank you so much to Qiu for leaving me a comment! :D

“Can we just pop in for a bit? Just one song. Please?”

“Espagne, it’s getting dark and we still have a way to go—“

“I’ll promise to be careful and I’m not going to drink anymore. And look, the road here is well lit now, see? And their name—“

“I know their name. I saw the poster.”

“How can we miss a performance then? Please? Monaco~”

Spain was far too old to be able to use pleading puppy dog eyes effectively, but he was able to manage somehow. Monaco was certainly unable to resist for long, despite her reservations. And so after a long moment of those eyes looking at her so entreatingly, she finally sighed (a sigh of such great tragedy) and gave in.

“Oh very well—“ She wasn’t even able to finish agreeing before he had taken her hand and pulled her toward the nearby bar where this catchy music was coming from. 

Rock music.

It was the music that first caught Spain’s attention. Somehow the music was heard over the roar of his motorcycle’s engine and Spain must have liked it so much that he actually stopped. Rock music. It’s not actually a known fact that the Iberian Nation liked rock music. It was definitely a surprise to Monaco when she found out, especially since she found out during one of her rare, surprise visits. She found him clutching his head while he lay on the floor of his bedroom after enjoying a song with his usual enthusiasm. Thank goodness his head wasn’t busted open. The experience certainly didn’t teach him anything and he still liked rock music.

Which was unfortunate for Monaco since, yes, again, she didn’t care much for rock music.

He pulled her into the bar, getting them through the crowd somehow. They weren’t going to stay long and no one seemed to mind that they didn’t even bother paying for a drink. Everyone was too preoccupied with listening to the band play, the band named Monaco Beach. Spain thought it was amusing and exciting; Monaco preferred to think it was just a plain, meaningless coincidence.

_The way we’re gonna live…  
The way we’re gonna live…  
The way we’re gonna go back home…  
The way we go… _

Spain was looking ahead at the band performing though they could hardly see, really. There was that smile on his face. It was just a small smile, but it was obvious he was enjoying himself. It can be seen in the way he bobbed his head to the beat and tapped his fingertips along his thigh. Instead of watching the band, Monaco kept her gaze on him.

Monaco didn’t care for rock music, didn’t care much for Spain’s motorcycle or the helmet that went with it that ruined her hair. Don’t even get her started on his sandals... It was a bit loud and crowded there and they were standing outside, barely even able to see this band they have stopped to listen to. She didn’t care much for it all, but she was here with him, somehow.

He was still bobbing his head along with the song, but then he turned to her and that smile widened a little. The fingers on his left hand were still tapping away to the rhythm, but he was holding her hand with the other. Monaco Beach was still performing, but he was smiling at her.

Then he lifted her hand and touched his lips to the back of her hand, gaze unwavering.

_So get, get, get, get , get, get outta here (Just for tonight)  
So get, get, get, get , get, get outta here (Just for tonight)  
So get, get, get, get , get, get outta here (Just for tonight)  
‘Cuz i’m drowning in my dreams!_

Maybe she didn’t care for a lot of the things he liked or did, but she certainly cared about him and that was probably enough.


End file.
